I Lied
by TartanLioness
Summary: SISTER ACT Now what did Mother Superior lie about? Read at own risk.
1. Chapter 1

Title: I Lied

Author: TartanLioness

The Reverend Mother of Saint Katherine's Convent sighed deeply and put her head in her hands. She was exhausted. The concert was over and his Holiness the Pope had left.

There was a soft knock on her door, as if the person knew what a terrible headache was pounding through her head right now. She felt most inclined not to answer for she just wanted to be alone.

"Come in," she called in spite of herself. Even she could hear the fatigue in her voice as Bishop O'Hara stepped into the office. She smiled at him weakly and inclined her head in greeting.

"Are you okay?" O'Hara asked, sounding worried.

"I am a little tired," she responded honestly. "But I am proud of them. They sang beautifully tonight."

"Yes, they certainly did." He smiled. "You should rest, Mother."

"Oh, no, I still have some work to do."

He stepped behind her chair and put his hands on her shoulders. As he rubbed them, he could feel her tense shoulders begin to loosen up a little.

"You work too hard," he stated as she leaned back in her straight backed chair.

"Mmmm," she mumbled incoherently, closing her eyes. "This is a wicked indulgence."

"What?" He sounded amused. "Relaxing?"

"Enjoying this," she whispered. "Enjoying this is an indulgence, a sin."

"Good Lord, Margaret, you need to relax and enjoy yourself every once in a while."

She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"No one has called me Margaret in many years," she said uncertainly. She studied the face of the man, whom she had known for so many years.

"I know. Remember when we first met? Father Maurice, yourself and I. We had fun, didn't we?"

This made her laugh quietly.

"Oh yes, I suppose so. We certainly caused Bishop O'Malley some sleepless nights. Oh, Joseph, everything has been so hectic and… I can't handle it, Joseph!" A lone tear slipped down her cheek. "I can't handle it anymore. I am a relic, not meant for the modern church."

Joseph O'Hara pulled her out of her chair and into his arms. He held her tight to him, stroking her back soothingly.

"Oh, my dear, you are not a relic. You are a wonderful Mother Superior and the sisters love you. You've taken such good care of them and it is obvious to everyone that you care deeply for them. You're driving yourself too hard."

"Everything just became too much with Mary Clarence – Deloris – and… I'm so proud of them but…" she sobbed into O'Hara's robes.

"Sursum corda, my dear," he whispered. She lifted her eyes to his. He hated seeing her like this, with red eyes and tearstains down her cheeks. He knew that very few persons had ever seen her like this and certainly never one of the sisters. Cupping her cheeks with his hands, he wiped away her tears. "Please don't cry, Margaret. I can't stand to see you cry. Remember, God is always behind you… and so am I."

"Thank you," she sniffed. She dried her eyes in her loose sleeves. "I'm sorry, Monsignor."

"Oh don't be, my dear. Never be sorry to be yourself with me. We've been friends for too many years for that. I am always here for you."

"I know."

With a last smile and a kiss on the Reverend Mother's cheek, O'Hara left the office. Mother Superior sat down heavily in her chair, feeling emotionally and physically drained. She could faintly hear the choir celebrating their success, singing as they went down the corridors. She couldn't blame them. They had come a long way with the choir and it had been an extraordinary night.

"…Just call my name  
I'll be there in a hurry  
You don't have to worry

'Cause baby,  
There ain't no mountain high enough  
Ain't no valley low enough  
Ain't no river wide enough  
To keep me from getting to you…"

The voices faded out as the choir passed her door. She smiled to herself. She knew that the song expressed the way they felt about God, the way _she_ felt about Him. But something deep inside her protested and said that maybe, just maybe, the Almighty wasn't the only one she'd do anything for.

"Oh, this is ridiculous!" she mumbled and left the office.

She entered the safety of her cell with a deep breath and leaned against the door for a few moments after closing it behind her. She was physically and emotionally drained but as she lay down in her bed, said a silent prayer and closed her eyes to go to sleep, she found that sleep eluded her. For what seemed like hours she stared at the ceiling, not really thinking anything but still not able to fall asleep.

The next few nights were the same; she felt tired, exhausted even and yet sleep would never find her when she finally went to bed. A fortnight had passed since the concert and she had had no real sleep. Dark circles were forming underneath her eyes and the thin woman became even thinner as she lost weight. And yet, she pretended not to notice the concerned looks she got from the sisters. However, she could not – no matter how hard she tried – ignore the moments where she saw concern shine from her friend, Monsignor O'Hara's eyes. She knew that he was worried about her, even though he hadn't mentioned it – but as she had no explanation to it herself, she didn't bring it up.

One afternoon, Bishop O'Hara walked into Mother Superior's office, only to find her bent over in her chair, resting her head on the desk, fast asleep. He smiled a bit but the smile was quickly replaced by a frown as he noticed how tense she looked. He realized that it was indeed not the most comfortable of positions to be bent over your table and he went to stand beside her. Shaking her shoulder gently, he tried to wake her up.

"Margaret? Margaret? Wake up," he said quietly. But she didn't. He tried again. And again. And yet again and she still didn't wake up. He sighed to himself.

"Okay, you asked for it then…"

He lifted her out of her chair, silently thanking God that she had never been a big woman. He did, however, worry a bit about the fact that she was so light. She had lost more weight than he thought.

With the sleeping nun in his arms, he only had to worry about getting to her cell without any of the sisters noticing. He knew of course that that would be completely impossible so he just walked right down the corridors, holding his childhood friend tight. She moaned softly in her sleep and a sister passing by blushed lightly.

Finally reaching her cell, he laid her on her bed, pulling the covers over her. He sat himself on the floor next to her bed and watched her sleep. He didn't know how long he sat there and he didn't really mind. After a few hours, she moaned again and he looked up sharply to see if she was waking up. Her eyes opened and she looked at him absent-mindedly for a few moments.

"Good morning, Mother Sleepyhead," he said softly, with a small grin playing on his lips.

"Don't tell me good morning, for I know I am not awake," was her only response. Her eyes seemed to tear up and O'Hara was filled with worry once again.

"But you most certainly are, my dear."

"No. You're in my cell and you never would be had I been awake. Will you do me a favor?"

"Of course, anything," he answered, not quite sure what was going on.

"Kiss me," she said shortly.

"I – I beg your pardon?" he exclaimed, startled.

"Kiss me. Please. Kiss me."

"Margaret, you have taken a vow of chastity," he said sternly, wishing he _could_ kiss her. But they were people of the church and they had both taken vows.

"I know… I lied," she grinned. "Besides, a kiss would hardly break that vow, do you think?"

"Margaret, you are not fully awake, you don't know what you are doing. Go back to sleep now. Close your eyes," he instructed.

"Please, Joseph, kiss me," she mumbled before sleep overtook her once again.

"I wish I could," he whispered sadly. Then he got up and went to the door. As he was about to turn the doorknob, he turned around and went back to her bed. There, he bent down and pecked the corner of her mouth softly.

"There," he whispered before he left her to sleep.

TBC...

A/N: Please review, as I'm absolutely not sure about posting this story. Hope you weren't completely offended by my obvious disregard for the Christian religion. :P


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks for your reviews, guys! I appreciate them! Clayre, great to hear from you again ;) _

Mother Superior woke up the next morning at dawn feeling utterly well rested. For a few seconds she lay there with her eyes closed, savoring the feeling of being completely rested. Then her eyes shot open as a flash from what seemed to be a dream came back to her. She sat up abruptly and tried to cover her gasp with her hands.

"Please tell me it was a dream," she whispered feverishly to herself as she walked down the corridors to her office. She came to an abrupt halt right as she entered her domain. In her chair sat her friend, Monsignor O'Hara.

"Monsignor," she smiled.

"Good morning, Mother," she replied. "I trust you slept well?" He willed himself not to blush as the image of her asking him to kiss her flashed through his mind.

"Very well, thank you. What are you doing in here?"

"Oh, just thought I'd take care of a bit of your paperwork. I know you have a lot on your mind and I figured I might as well…" he trailed off.

"Thank you, Monsignor. You are too kind to me. I guess you were the one who helped me to bed yesterday?"

"Yes, that was me."

"Did you… did you stay or did you leave immediately?" she asked cautiously. He seemed to hesitate before answering, "I stayed for a while. Just making sure you wouldn't wake up and go back to work."

They were silent for a while before O'Hara asked, "Is there a special reason you ask?"

"I had a… a dream… where I did something that I shouldn't have done and I… I just wanted to make sure it actually _was_ a dream," she explained, avoiding his eyes.

"And what did you do, my dear?"

"Believe me, Monsignor, you do not wish to know," she whispered. She felt a stinging behind her eyes and tried to keep back the tears. O'Hara nodded and stood.

"I shall leave you to work then. Don't overexert yourself."

"I won't," she smiled weakly.

The last she heard before he left her office was him mumbling, "I don't know, Margaret. I don't know."

"You don't know what?" she asked, curiosity taking over. Her question stopped him in his tracks. As he turned around, he looked at her intensely.

"I don't know if sharing a kiss would be breaking the vow of chastity. I don't know if falling in love would either. I don't know."

With those words, he turned again and left, leaving Mother Superior to herself. She stood there, mouth slightly agape, not believing her ears. Her cheeks were adorned by a pink tinge as she realized that it hadn't been a dream.

The next week passed slowly for Mother Superior. She was lost in her own thoughts most of the time and even the sisters had noticed. She knew that they were whispering among themselves that she hadn't been herself since the concert. She knew that they only did it because they cared for her and were worried about her. But she had made her decision.

More resolute than she had been for a long time, she sat down at her desk and pulled out a piece of paper. She could hear her own words in her mind.

"_I have submitted my resignation to Monsignor O'Hara privately." _

"_We can't both of us leave."_

She sighed. O'Hara hadn't been happy when she had told him, she resigned. He certainly wouldn't be happy when she resigned again. _'For good, this time,'_ she told herself. Without warning, a sentence she hadn't thought about for years popped into her head. Monsignor O'Hara had asked her to join him one evening and they had watched the Sound of Music.

"_Just because you love this man, it doesn't mean you love God less." _

She hadn't really thought about it then but now, she almost cried. Putting her pen to the paper, she wrote the words that would open the doors to her escape. Had it been one of her sisters, she would have told her to face her problems, not run away but she didn't practice what she preached. Never before had running away seemed so tempting.

A quiet knock upon his door made Bishop O'Hara look up from his papers. He hadn't really been paying attention anyway and the visitor was a welcome distraction from the somewhat disturbing thoughts that he was having trouble keeping track of. Most of the day he had been trying to tell himself that she had never actually said his name when he asked him to kiss her – she could have spoken of and to anyone. However, the object of his thoughts stepped into the room per his request and he inwardly sighed, not really knowing what how a simple request from a woman not quite awake could change the friendly relationship he had with the Reverend Mother so much.

"Good afternoon, Mother," he greeted her with a smile. The smile faltered when he realized that she was paler than usual, with dark circles underneath her eyes. "Is something the matter?"

"I…" her voice broke and she looked at her hands, wringing them as she looked up again and once more tried to speak. "I have something for you, Monsignor."

"Indeed?"

She handed him the paper. He never looked at it as he took it from her hands.

"What is this?"

"My resignation." She said this with a calm and collected voice, which betrayed the turmoil her mind was in. She took in his expression; she registered the shock and the hurt that shone from his face.

"You want to be transferred again?"

"I think that might be the best, yes."

"The best… for whom? You? The sisters?"

"For me," she responded, looking down. "And you."

With those words, she turned and walked out of the office, tears stinging her eyes.

"Margaret!"

Several sisters turned to stare after the bishop, wondering who he was calling to. Mother Superior stopped and stood with her back to him in the middle of the corridor. Her hands were gathered in front of her and she was wringing them nervously. She knew that he was standing close to her but she didn't turn around. Both were silent for a few moments and the sisters in the vicinity all scampered out of sight – stopping when they could no longer be seen but still within hearing distance.

"Margaret…"

"I'm sorry, Joseph, but I..." she trailed off, never finishing the sentence.

"You what?"

"Nothing. Please forget I said anything," she whispered and resumed the brisk walk to her cell. She could hear the Monsignor's foot steps following her. She knew that she wasn't going to get rid of him until she told him the truth. She finally reached her cell and went inside, closing the door in her old friend's face.

Leaning against the hard wood, she slid to the floor, hiding her face in her arms. A gentle knock upon her door caused her to look up. She knew who it was and she did not particularly want to talk to him. She shook her head, realizing that she was acting like a fifteen year old.

"Margaret," he called through the door in a soft voice. She got up and opened the door with her best 'Mother Superior' expression. She then stalked past him and to her office where she promptly sat down behind her desk and gestured for him to take a seat in one of the guest chairs. He sat down with a frown.

"I would really appreciate it," she began with a toneless voice. "If you would just accept my request and be done with it."

"What I don't understand is why you want this," he said as if she hadn't spoken at all. She sighed and hid her face in with her hands.

"Why can't you just understand that this is something I must do? Please, I would rather not talk about it, if you don't already know," she said, finally looking at him again. He looked back at her with intense eyes.

"Does it have something to do with your… request?" he asked, always discreet. Her eyes avoided his, thereby giving away the truth: yes, it was in fact because of that particular request.

"Monsignor, for the love of God, accept my request and let's be done with it." Mother Superior was tired and she wanted to be alone, rid of this man that was her best friend. She wanted him to grant her request to resign, preferably immediately. She tugged on her habit. The room was quiet; neither spoke or dared to breathe. Looking down at the hands that were fumbling with the hem of her habit, she heard him get out of his chair. Footsteps sounded across the floor to the office door. She heard it click shut and buried her face in her hands. The sobs came quickly, dry and shallow.

When a pair of arms lifted her out of the chair, she didn't resist. One of God's angels had come for her, she was sure. She was dead – she was sure of it. She had died from heartbreak.

Still sobbing and shaking violently, she kept her eyes closed. She felt her chin be lifted and light shone on her eyelids. Her sobs subsided and she gave in to the warmth of the angel's arms.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

Something touched her lips gently and a familiar scent filled her nostrils. As the pressure on her lips grew, she willed her eyes to open. The sight that met her was not one she had expected. The arms around her did not belong to an angel. His lips left hers slowly.

He let go of her body and she nearly slumped into her chair.

"Joseph…" she whispered, taking a hold of the armrest on her straight-backed chair.

"You asked me to grant your request. I did," was his quiet answer.

"I meant a different request!" she protested. "I meant the request for my resignation!"

"I know," he said, walking to the door. "I apologize." And he left the office, and her.

She looked around slowly. The light that had shone on her eyelids had come from the window with the sun hanging low on the clear blue sky. She went to the window and looked out. A small smile crept onto her lips. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to stay here.

The End…

A/N: (Facepalm) I thought there was more left but there you go... Last chapter, extemely short but... Couldn't make her leave, could I? After all, in SA II she's still there... :P


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